


Watch Me

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: BBQ, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, It got ruined, May is secretly annoyed, She loved those things, Vomiting, Why S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer has an annual BBQ, a lot of those, non sexual nudity, not for the faint hearted, toilet visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4482713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz couldn't believe she was doing it, they were always making stupid bets. And he hadn't meant for this to go that far. But it had. And all he could do was watch open mouthed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Me

**Author's Note:**

> \+ based on the following prompt: "We're always making stupid bets like 'Bet you can't drink this whole bottle of BBQ sauce' but then you did and now you're sick and I feel really bad, here let me look after you" From Sarah. Also this is for you. Leaving me all the prompts. Love you nerd butt.
> 
> \+ A warning of vomit and diarrhea is in place. Really anything that could happen if you drink an entire freaking bottle of BBQ sauce. Your guts would hate you for that. 
> 
> \+ Also, language and underwear nudity, nothing explicit but...

The S.H.I.E.L.D. annual barbecue was in full swing. The birds were in the trees, singing their song. Coulson at the barbecue, filling the air with smoke. And Fitzsimmons, debating whether or not you could drink an entire bottle of BBQ.

"It's not possible," Fitz was saying. "No one could finish an entire bottle. You would throw up before you could finish."

"You could. But your whole body, mainly your guts would hate you for that," was how Jemma retaliated. 

"Do it then." 

Jemma raised an eyebrow at him. "Is this a dare?"

"If you want it to be,"Fitz thought for a moment. "A bet."

"If I can, and I will, you owe me $50." Jemma extended her hand, knowing that this would be some of the easiest $50 she ever made. And she wasn't going to give Fitz the satisfaction of taking money out of her hand.

There was a gentle summer breeze, making the end of her white summer dress dance. She eyed the very bottle, brand new and unopened on the table. "There it is. You happy with that."

Fitz nodded. It was unopened, meaning that no one else had used it. Meaning that all 500ml of BBQ sauce where in there. She wasn't going to be able to finish it. This would be the easiest $50 he ever made.

By now, everyone else in attendance had an idea that something was going to happen. All eyes were on them, wanting to see what the two scientists would do next.

Jemma walked, as confidently as she could up to the table, opened the bottle. kicked off her shoes and climbed on top of the table.

'Crap' was all Fitz could think. Jemma had had alcohol. This was going to end worse now. She was going all out. This was going to end badly.

She gave him a wicked grin before putting the bottle to her mouth and started to chug.

He felt sick even watching her. How was she doing this?

By now, she was at least a quarter of the way through the bottle and had no intentions on stopping. She was in this to win this. A crowd had started to gather around the table, cheering her on, Chanting her name. Fitz looked around, wanting to see who was leading, conducting this chanting. It was Skye.

Of course it was Skye. Who else would be doing something like this?

Coulson had abandoned the barbecue, leaving the sausages on it to burn, even more than they had originally been doing, and more smoke, of the thicker, blacker variety, now surrounded the grill. 

Halfway through and Jemma seemed to show no signs of slowing down, instead she seemed to be speeding up, wanting to win. She was determined to win this.

May, who was standing beside Skye just rolled her eyes. This was going to end badly. It usually did when bets and plastic garden furniture was involved. 

The chanting got louder and louder, more encouraging as she started to drain the last few drops from the bottle. The sauce was all over her face, the brown liquid making rivers from her mouth, down her chin before waterfalling over her chin and down on to her neck. 

She had finished. Fitz, and a number of others hadn't thought that this would be possible. Didn't know that she would have been able to do this. And now he was $50 worse off. He shouldn't have made this stupid bet.

Cheering broke out as she dropped the bottle, it falling without a sound onto the grass. Skye helped her down from the table and Jemma gave Fitz a wicked look as she wiped the remains of sauce from her face onto the back of her arm.

But as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, a lot of the sauce decided to make a reappearance, staining her once white dress. Skye groaned. Fitz ran forward, wrapping his arm around Jemma's shoulder, ignoring the extremely strong smell of BBQ vomit. 

BBQ sauce made his stomach churn at the best of times and mixed with vomit, well it wasn't something that he wanted to smell often. 

This being the S.H.I.E.L.D., and Coulson having planned the actual barbecue, the Bus wasn't to far away. Fitz lead her away, Jemma with her hands clamped over her mouth, not wanting to stain any more of her already ruined dress. 

Just before the Bus, Jemma pulled away, collapsing to the ground before heaving once again. A whole bottle of BBQ sauce on top of an empty stomach with alcohol, her body must currently be hating her for her life decisions. 

He just knelt down beside her, and held her hair back, murmuring reassurances in her ear. This was all his fault. He had dared her to do this and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to help her.

They sat like that for five minutes before Jemma finally nodded, showing that she was ready to move. Fitz helped her up, and led her into the Bus. She was pale and unsteady on her feet. But there was still a victorious twinkle in her eye. 

Once safely inside the Bus, and away from any prying eyes, Fitz helped Jemma remove her ruined dress. She made a squeak of sadness as Fitz examined it, and shook his head. There was no hope of salvaging that. 

Everyone had their own personal bathroom on the Bus, and Fitz threw the dress into the first one he saw. He couldn't stomach the thing, and if he couldn't, Jemma definitely couldn't.

He hoped, as he led Jemma into the next bathroom, away from the smell of the dress, that the bathroom that the dress was now currently residing in, wasn't May's. May would kill him if it was. He would rather have to deal with that dress than a pissed off May.

As Jemma sat down on the toilet seat, he debated getting her any new clothes. Was it worth the risk? Was it worth getting any new clothes? Just for her to throw up.

He was removed from his thoughts by Jemma finally speaking, and asking for water. 

He nodded, saying that he would return. Water from the kitchen would be better, nicer than water from the bathroom sink. Jemma had always said that there was no difference. But Fitz thought there was a difference. And he was getting the final say in this, if not anything else.

On the way back from the kitchen, he found the bathroom door locked, and Jemma shouted out to him "You are not going to want to come in here!"

"Why?"

He could practically hear her eye roll from where he was standing on the other side of the door. "You just don't."

"I want to know if you're okay."

"I fucking drank BBQ sauce!" she shouted back. She swore, Fitz noticed. She never swore. Unless she was ill. "Did you not even listen to me?"

He thought back to that very conversation that had got them to this point in time. Then realised what she was implying. 

"Shit," he muttered, not intending for her to hear that.

"You've got something right!"

"Is there anything..." he trailed off. She would know what he meant. She always did. 

"Should be, in the medicine cabinet."

Fitz nodded, knowing that she couldn't see it. He set the water down, making a mental note not to knock it down when he came back. 

He sprinted down the plane, and back to the kitchen, rummaging around in the cupboard for whatever medicine would be best to take back to her.

When he returned, he found her leaning against the door frame, sipping the water. She looked slightly better. The bathroom smelt strongly of air freshener. Really strongly. Fitz started to cough as he handed Jemma the tablets, which she swallowed with the water.

"Better than the alternative smell," she said, flashing him a grin. Then her stomach started to churn once again, and she dashed into the bathroom, leaning over the toilet before projectile vomiting once again. Fitz was surprised that she was able to a). Stand the smell that was surrounding the toilet. It was bad. Really bad (maybe that helped. He didn't know?). And b). How she was still able to throw up. There couldn't be anything left in her stomach.

He knelt down beside her, trying not to spill his guts himself.

She had a moment's respite and used it to look at him. "I can do this myself."

He froze, not sure how to reply to this. "I... I know. I just. It's my fault."

"You're damn right."

Then her body expelling the horrible concoction again. He just sat there and rubbed her back, proving that little comfort that people do when their best friend is forcibly ejecting their guts.

Eventually, she sat up, and leaned against the bathroom wall, the tile floor cold against her legs. Fitz had his eyes firmly fixed on her face.

"What?" he said, once she started to giggle. 

"You've seen me in less." Her eyes went wide, teasing him. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Much, much less."

"Jemma Simmons, you are wearing two articles of clothing. And that was ten years ago." He had flashbacks to the time when they had went skinny dipping, a night out to celebrate completing their first year. 

"I know you love me."

That was her comeback. Off all things. He had no idea how to reply to that. It was true. He did love her. But she had never shown that she had loved him romantically as well.

"I love you that way too," she said, her voice teasing.

Did she just say that she loved him? "Jems, are you drunk?" 

She laughed. "Me? Drunk?"

He nodded. "You had that cocktail thing."

She continued laughing, explaining that it was a summer fruits cocktail. And no alcohol was involved.

"I've thought you drunk the whole afternoon. I thought..."

"Please," she interrupted him. "I would do that sober, just to prove to you."

"And you did."

She nodded. "And I did."

"So, you?"

She nodded. "More than anything."

"I'm not kissing you now. Not until you've expelled all that."

"Am I not sexy?" she asked, pouting.

He just shook his head. There was still sauce staining her face and the back of her arm, from when she had wiped it away earlier. 

She gave him another pout. "So you're going to kiss me?"

He shrugged. "Why not? There's a first time for everything."

Her face suddenly turned suggestive. "Everything?"

He nodded, knowing immediately what she was implying. "Everything."

She smiled, as plucked the elastic on her underpants. "I really wanna try fondue," she said, as innocently as possible.

Fitz nodded. "Later. Once we're better. Last thing we need is for you to throw up in the middle of us trying fondue."

It was her turn to shake her head in dismay. "We're gonna try fondue one day."

He moved closer to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "You still owe me $50."

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... I hope you enjoyed this thing *gestures at fic*. Drunk!Jemma is one of my fav things. She would totally do something stupid like this. Hope this didn't make you feel ill.  
> Marvel owns all.


End file.
